


home;

by lilevans



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter - Freeform, James Potter - Freeform, Lily Evans - Freeform, Marauders, Modern Muggle AU, idk what this isssss, jily au, marauders fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 03:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11546454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilevans/pseuds/lilevans
Summary: “I tripped and spilled the dish on you and started panicking but you ended up comforting me despite the fact that you’re covered in sauce and meatballs how are you so nice” waiter/waitress AUor, the one where lily and the marauders make each other home.





	home;

**Author's Note:**

> this was my entry for the jily challenge in april. it's pretty long but i hope you enjoy x

_**JILY CHALLENGE; MODERN MUGGLE AU** _   
_**The Prompt; “I tripped and spilled the dish on you and started panicking but you ended up comforting me despite the fact that you’re covered in sauce and meatballs how are you so nice” waiter/waitress AU** _

**_HOME;_ **  
_1\. The place where one lives permanently. London._  
_2\. A person or persons that make being alive worth it. They know you and all your flaws within moments of meeting you. They love you within hours._  
_3\. What falling in love feels like?_

* * *

 

She keeps picturing the lacy red dress she saw in the shop as she walks into work that night. The twilight haze that surrounded her is supposed to look immaculate, the light setting her hair on fire in the most spectacular way. But her thoughts do not touch upon that subject; her mind is filled with dissertations and Shakespeare and why he is so influential. She is fretting about her university fees and how she can ever fix her relationship with her sister, and she can’t stop thinking about that damn dress.  
But alas, that dress cannot belong to Lily Evans this time round. She needs the money to graduate.  
London is lit up before long, and Lily takes a moment as she tosses her hair up to take in the view. It would never cease to amaze her.  
“Lily, table three needs water and 4 glasses.” Marlene, her co-worker, nudges her gently, adjusting her apron as she fires up a stove. The kitchen is as busy as it always is on a Friday night, fires roaring up, tall chiefs chopping vegetables with precision, delicately placing parsley on the pasta before them, and waitresses grabbing trays and rushing to serve their customers. Lily sighs gently. Just another day. She nods at Marlene, grabbing the waters before heading out onto the floor, wistfully thinking of how she could be writing instead.

* * *

 

He knows he shouldn’t be taking the Mercedes, because it is just supposed to be a small get together, but everything in his blood feels the need to rebel, to tell the world that Remus has powerful friends. Sirius has tossed him the keys, a fire in his eyes, smoke trailing from his mouth as he exhales nicotine, before shoving the Marlboro packet towards James.  
“Remus and Pete said they’ll meet us a seven,” Sirius drawls, closing his eyes and leaning back against the headrest of the car, while James draws his seatbelt. Sirius doesn’t bother. Sirius is going through enough. His parents have sent him another abusive email. He is still having nightmares. And there isn’t a thing that James can do, and it kills him. At least Peter is emotionally stable. He’s the only one.  
James nods, twitching his hand and feeling the car rumble to life underneath him. His fingers vibrate on the gearstick and his urges to smash the damn thing increase. He inhales; not tonight. Remus needs him tonight.  
The car revs smoothly along the London roads, and Sirius turns the radio up as loud as it could go, and James doesn’t mind r u mine? Vibrating through his spine as he drives. It’s a normal night. Everything is going to be okay.  
The restaurant is situated on a corner, which makes it easy to pull the Mercedes into the park just outside the door, and James can already feel the atmosphere inside. Busy, warm, and a billion amazing pasta sauces wafting towards him.  
He looks towards Sirius, Sirius looks towards him, the last of the cigarette between his lips.  
“He’ll be okay, right?” His voice makes it sound nonchalant, like of course he would be, but he knows Sirius catches the tremor on the end.  
He exhales the smoke slowly, and James automatically falls into time with his breathing.  
“We’re all going to be fine, mate.” And then, within a split second, “Now, I want my exotic Italian beer and meatballs.”  
James can’t help but chuckle, and they exit the car, smoke still following them.  
Pete and Remus are seated, and Sirius is already bounding towards them, while James stays behind to tell the waiter they’re under “Potter.”  
He’s distracted as he’s walking towards the table, still thinking of everything that could go wrong tomorrow. Then, he sees a flurry of red hair and uniform brush past him, humming the tune of a song by The Wombats.  
She’s not paying attention to anything, just bringing water to tables and brushing strands of hair out of her face, but all James Potter has to do was take one look at her, scribbling the orders with her left hand, and he instantly feels weak at the knees. Nothing is better than her, his jaw has dropped as he walks into a table, before quickly straightening his bowtie and sitting at the table before she can catch him staring.  
He claps Remus on the back as he sits, nodding at him in reassurance. Remus’s curly locks fall on his eyes as he smiles, and that’s all he needs to do to thank James. Before they know it, Sirius has started talking about how good Fibonacci’s beer is.  
“And I love the theme,” Peter chips in, his eyes glancing around the room, eyeing the numbers that are scattered across the walls, 3s and 5s and 21s, all to honour the namesake of the restaurant.  
James can’t help but snort at the theme of the restaurant. Maths was such a mundane thing, but somehow this little Italian restaurant that, amazingly, was filled most nights, makes it endearing.  
They talk about pizza (Pineapple did belong on pizza, but Sirius wouldn’t listen to reason) and politics and “No Remus, Earl Grey is not everyone’s favourite tea, you’re just a snob.”  
But James can’t help but push his glasses further up his nose whenever she passes their table, and his jaw drops a little every time she has to tuck her hair back.  
She makes eye contact with him once, and as soon as he sees the bright green eyes that are so green they couldn’t be real, he knows. He already knows, he’s fucked.

* * *

An hour flies by for Lily, and she’s already beginning to feel light headed. How do people manage to do it? University and working and socializing and having enough money to buy food and pay the rent and have nice dresses and places to wear them to, and still have money to go out.  
She blows the hair out of her face and glances back at Marlene from the kitchens, who winks at her as she stirs the sauce.  
Lily inhales sharply, picking up her pen and paper and walking over to table 7, where four immaculately dressed 20-something year olds sip their beers and laugh.  
She exhales sharply still, realising that one of the four was the one who she has been not-so-subtlety staring at.  
He has jet black hair and despite the fact that he’s obviously filthy rich (perhaps to the point of arrogance) he wears glasses, even when he could get laser eye surgery.  
Lily can’t help but observe him, her fingers itching to pen a story about him for class. The way his fingers twitch, and the way he always has to be doing something with his hands, like running them through his hair or tapping on the table, or that he has a handsomely square jaw, and his grin was crooked as he laughs at his friend’s jokes.  
Everything about people like him is supposed to be stuffy, posh and fake and stiff. But somehow, the boy and all his friends seem like they are in technicolour, bright and real and genuine.  
He looks at her, eyes lighting up as he notices someone walking up to them.  
“Ready to order, sirs?” Her voice shakes and she feels a little intimidated, although she will never admit it. People who arrive in Mercedes Benz cars don’t come to Fibonacci’s very often.  
“Yes, I’ll take the Fibonacci Specialty Meatballs, and this tosser will have the same,” Jet Black Hair says, gesturing good-naturedly to the one on his left. His hair is long, his eyes a stormy grey, his jaw set. If Lily’s heart wasn’t pounding at the idea of Jet Black Hair, she’d have thought Stormy Grey Eyes attractive. She jots down the order in a scribble, blowing hair out of her face again.  
“I’ll have the Carbonara, and another beer,” The next one to speak has curly brown hair, and plays with his fork as he speaks. He wears a worn sweater that looks well loved, yet still somehow well-presented and classy. He has rings under his eyes that implies he is both tired and that he has reading glasses, and Lily likes how he looks, and something about the air Worn Sweater gives off made Lily hope he likes Shakespeare as much as she does.  
She writes that down too, ignoring the parts of the order that had smudged due to her left-handedness. She’d remember this order. She knows it.  
“I’ll have the Margherita pizza, please miss.” The last boy is pudgy and polite, and Lily feels a warmth in her heart at the thought of a 20-something year old, privileged and dumb, still having those manners.  
She smiles and writes them down, biting her lip as she did so. She sees Jet Black Hair glance at her and look away, and Pudgy and Polite sniggers at his friend’s antics.  
“They won’t be too long,” Lily announces, a blush creeping up her cheeks.  
Stormy Grey Eyes begins a conversation again, and Lily goes back to the kitchens, a strange warmth knotting its way through her stomach. Something about those boys feels new and strange and familiar all at once. Something about them reminds her of what a home should feel like.

 

* * *

She can’t stop thinking of his crooked grin and well-balanced manner as she precariously balances the two bowls of meatballs and the Margherita pizza. Her mind is racing and her pulse is thudding which causes her fingers to tremble as she holds the meatballs.  
But then she makes eye contact with him as he turns around, and her knees weaken, and just as she reaches table seven her knees finally give way.  
It’s a slow motion masterpiece, really, because she’s trying to save Jet Black Hair’s crotch from Fibonacci’s sauce and the food is flying and Jet Black Hair looks horrified and yet dazed, Stormy Grey Eyes has a disgruntled look because he knows he’ll lose his meatballs, but he can’t contain his amusement that food will end up in his friend’s lap.  
Worn Sweater has a snarky look on his face as he sees Lily, because he’s been watching her and Jet Black Hair eye-fuck all night, and maybe now they’ll finally get somewhere, and he gets to watch his friend get covered in meatball sauce.  
And Pudgy and Polite, well he just looks mortified at the loss of such marvellous food.  
The meatballs make contact with Jet Black Hair, spluttering spectacularly on his white dress pants. Lily’s hair comes undone again, but she does not care, and she’s on her knees wiping up sauce off him as her hair gets caught in her mouth and he doesn’t know what to do.  
“I’m so sorry… sir, I’ll get this cleaned up right away, oh god, um-” Her voice cracks and he knows she’s panicking, but he doesn’t know what to do. He’s never had a beautiful girl spill meatball sauce on him before.  
“I’ll give you a whole meal replacement, a refund, oh my- Uh, Sir, give me one second–” He finally looks down at her below him, ignoring his friend’s faces, and puts his hand gently on hers.  
“It’s okay, we can just get another one. It’s fine, love.” He doesn’t know why he says it, but he does.  
Her heart flutters against her ribs as he says the word, but she’s already on the verge of tears. “I-I’m going to lose my job; I can’t afford this- oh my god-”  
James shushes her reassuringly. “I will make sure you don’t.”  
He grabs all the napkins off the table and he helps her clear the mess onto a bowl without really thinking. Remus and Pete help without thinking too, but Sirius takes a moment to mourn his meal before joining.  
“Why are you being so nice—sir,” She’s stuttering and she doesn’t know what’s going on. The boys at table seven just helped her clean up her own mess without even asking for an explanation. How did people like this exist?  
“It’s quite alright, miss,” Pudgy and Polite looks at her and smiles, and she exhales shakily.  
“Everyone has bad days,” Worn Sweater adds, smiling at her in a way she can’t help but find endearing.  
Stormy Grey Eyes is pretending to look disapproving for a moment, but he cracks and unfolds his arms. “It’s fine, love, but I do want more meatballs. Please.” She likes him, even though she knows she shouldn’t.  
Lily laughs with a watery smile as Jet Black Hair stands up and helps her with the dishes. A jolt goes through her as he does so.  
“Do you want to meet us after your shift?” He asks quietly, breath hitching in his throat. He knows he shouldn’t be so forward, but he can’t stand never seeing her again. He needs to knowher, to understand her.  
She scoffs, still shaking, but ready to be nonchalant within a second. “Not a chance.”  
His heart shatters for a moment, but he feels a bit of paper slide into his fingertips as he hands her the rest of the plates, and she saunters off.  
It’s a small note, smudged and practically engraved into the order paper.  
_I get off at eleven, Mercedes boy._

* * *

  
Lily finally lets her hair out as the restaurant begins to close and Marlene and Lily make their way out. Lily gathers her things, making sure she has her keys and a phone charger, before making her way out the door, squeezing Marlene in a hug as she walks.  
“We’ll do coffee this week!” Marlene shouts as she walks towards her car on the other end of the street.  
“I’m free Tuesday!” Lily shouts back, looking for her keys again, before remembering both that she walked and that she was meeting with Jet Black Hair and his friends. Her heart flutters inside her rib cage again, and she doesn’t know how to contain it. He’s leaning on his car, while Stormy Grey Eyes is in the driver’s seat, head back as he takes in a drag of smoke. Worn Sweater and Pudgy and Polite are in the back, talking quietly. Worn Sweater looks a little nervous at the sight of a cigarette.  
Jet Black Hair looks up and notices she’s there, jolting and smiling with a crooked grin.  
“Ah, hello, I’m James, by the way, I didn’t say that before,” He’s scratching the back of his head awkwardly, then holding out his hand for her to shake, and she takes it as she smiles at him.  
“Lily.” His hand is warm in hers, and he feels safe, and Lily doesn’t know what it is, but she already feels so at peace.  
“That’s Sirius,” James points at Stormy Grey Eyes, or Sirius, who looks up and his smile is one of the goofiest Lily has ever seen, causing her to giggle, which in turn makes him smile wider.  
“I’ll forgive you for losing my meatballs, then,” He scoffs, and Lily nods in thanks. Sirius looks like all the boys her mother told her not to befriend, but Lily looks at his eyes again and realised that in some lights, they look just as sad as hers.  
“And Remus,” James gestures to Worn Sweater, concern etching itself onto his face. Lily senses that something is wrong, but she doesn’t press. Remus has picked up a copy of The Merchant of Venice and is now reading it, and Lily’s eyes light up at the sight, and Remus absent-mindedly tussles his curls as he looks up at her, smiling.  
“I thought you’d like Shakespeare,” Lily murmurs without thinking, but Remus only laughs.  
“That obvious? Are you a Lit Student too?”  
Lily nods, feeling warm all through her insides, despite the cold London air. “Yeah.”  
Remus nods back, glancing at her hand. “And left-handed,”  
She looks at her smudged hand, marks spluttering all the way up her pinkie and down the side of her hand, the ink a combination of poetry writing and studying and orders.  
James clears his throat, even though it’s obvious he adores that the pretty waitress who flirts amorously is getting on with his friends.  
“And that’s Pete,” Lily looks behind Remus, and Pete looks up her and the widest grin spreads across his face.  
“Hello,” he says, looking at her with the brightest eyes. Lily knows he’s a grown 20-something-year-old, she feels like he has a sort of innocence that is hard to lose.  
“Your restaurant’s Margherita pizza is amazing by the way,” His eyes are wide and admiring and she’s already a little bit head over heels for all four, but when James looks back at her and gestures for her to climb in the back of the Mercedes, but Lily feels a churning in her stomach. Those boys look so at home in that car, even Remus, reading in the back, is completely at home in the situation.  
“You can get in Love- Lily,” James stumbles as he says the words, realising he knows her name now. She climbs into the car next to Remus, who smiles warmly as he helps her in, then they quietly begin to talk about what edition of The Merchant of Venice it is, and James is kicking Sirius out of the driver seat, because he feels too jittery to not drive tonight. He glances back at Pete, who’s in a food coma, Remus, who looks content, and Lily, who looks radiant, before turning the key and pressing his foot to the pedal. He sees Lily’s hair flying in the wind like a glorious messy flag, and he feels that stab in his gut again. He knows it. He’s already in deep and they’re not even at his flat yet.

* * *

Lily doesn’t know what to think as he turns the key and opens the door, but she walks in to a house that looks modern, boyish, and there are traces of living everywhere. She’s not even sure why she’s here, all she knows is that James’s flat is perfect.  
There’s coffee mugs strewn through the lounge room, and there’s handwriting etched into the wall that says Manchester United rules. “It was Sirius,” James says nonchalantly, following her gaze. Sirius bows and Lily laughs again. “You bloody git,” He snorts. “What team do you go for then, Lily whatever your last name is?”  
“It’s Lily Evans, if you must know,” She replies, looking around at the football posters and state of the art furniture that was worn with use.  
“And I go for Arsenal,” She states, fingers brushing across the kitchen counter.  
“Oh thank god, a good team,” James sighs in relief, glancing at his huge poster of the team, and a blush creeps up Lily’s cheeks.  
She collapses on the couch to hide her cheeks and instantly feels warm and at home. She hopes James doesn’t think her rude.  
He doesn’t. He’s looking at her like she’s the universe, because she’s a mess and she’s beautiful and she likes him enough to sit comfortable in his house.  
She stands up suddenly, walking over to the fridge and pouring herself and the five of them bourbon and coke without even asking them where anything was. His chest explodes.  
“So do all four of you live here?” She asks, sipping her drink, enjoying the warmth as it slides down her throat.  
“No, just me and Sirius, but these tossers are here so often they may as well.”  
“Oh yeah, we have our own drawers of stuff and everything, I think they’ll take the next step and actually ask us to move in any day now,” Remus snorts without missing a beat, and Lily high fives him, dribbling with laughter.  
Pete breaks open the family packet of crisps and the five of them sit at the kitchen table, pouring more drinks and talking about anything. Everything. Lily feels loved, these four boys who are obviously closer than anything invited her over even after she spilt meatballs on them.  
James feels exhilarated, because Lily Evans, whose name rolls so perfectly off his tongue he wants to sing it, is sitting in his kitchen, all coffee stains and smudged hands, her fingers clasping around her glass as she quips at Sirius, talks writing techniques with Remus, and now even Pete has someone to talk to about his love of cheese with. She fits perfectly, and he wonders why she wasn’t there all along.  
He talks about F. Scott Fitzgerald with her, and their conversation about The Great Gatsby is so passionate and filled with equal amounts of flirting and friendship that the others pause to watch the back and forth, the exchange of happiness sparking between the two.  
Finally, they’re all drunk and falling asleep, and they’ve moved to the coach, all sprawled out as James and Lily high five over how amazing Arsenal is. He can’t focus on anything but his toes are touching hers and their faces are inches apart and he wants to kiss her there and then, 3:47am on the floor of his flat, but he knows he wants to be sober and clear headed when he kisses this creature.  
Lily’s hair is already caught in her mouth and she mumbles “Best sleepover ever,” and James chuckles as Pete, who’s snoring, gentle kicks him.  
“Can I write about you?” Her voice echoes through the flat, despite the whispering, and he considers.  
“Write about what makes you happy, Evans.”  
“You make me happy. The four of you. This is what home should feel like.”  
James’s mouth drops. He’s a part of someone’s home. The thought consumes him for a moment, but by the time he’s articulated a response, she’s snoring, fast asleep and definitely more than a little drunk.

* * *

  
It’s 5:24 am when Lily jolts awake at the sound of tears. She’s rigid, terrified of the sound, and stumbles. She almost steps on James, not realising how close together they were, but she doesn’t, tip-toeing around his fingers and putting his glasses on the coffee table, before walking, bleary-eyed, to the bathroom.  
Remus is hunched over by the toilet, eyes puffy and skin red, marks across his arms where he’s raked his nails over his skin over and over and over again. Lily bits her lip, and sits with him.  
“Remus?”  
He sniffles, unsure of what to say. This isn’t Lily’s problem. But she’s there and she’s so gentle and loving and she’s so into all of them. She just fits.  
“I’m so–sorry Lily, you don’t have to deal with this,”  
Lily’s eyes widen with concern and affection as she wraps her arms around his shivering figure.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“It-It-It’s tomorrow,” Remus stumbles over the words as he tries to speak, but Lily is rubbing his shoulders and she’s so at peace with him that his breathing automatically begins to fall into time with hers.  
“What’s tomorrow?” Her eyebrows quirk, she frowns, but her green eyes are still alight, despite the earliness, and Remus thinks that that must be some sort of beautiful.  
“Chemotherapy.”  
The word drops through the air and cuts silence, and Lily’s heart stops for a moment. Everything made sense. James’ constant glances. Sirius’s hand shaking as he lit cigarettes. Peter’s shadowing of Remus, cautious. Dinner out at Fibonacci’s beforehand to boost Remus’s mood. Despite the circumstances, she falls in love with the loyalty a little more.  
Her mind searches for the cancer that someone young like Remus would have, and it clicks.  
“Leukaemia?”  
He nods, and curls himself further into Lily. She’s safe.  
She’s patting his hair, and she knows she shouldn’t think it, but he’s a little bit beautiful right now.  
“Remus, you’re going to be alright. We all are. I know it’s going to hurt, and I know it’s not going to feel okay for a long time, but you have wonderful people in your life and they are going to be with you every step of the way. Sirius, Pete, James–” Her mind stumbles as she remembers how close she was to kissing him, but she shakes that thought away.  
“They’re going to get you through this. They love you.”  
He sits up abruptly. “Come with us,” It feels right. And now it’s like he needs her there.  
“Re-Remus, I- I don’t know, you don’t know me- It-It’s not my place-”  
“Lily, I can feel something different when you’re around us. You are the missing part. I don’t care that we didn’t meet until yesterday, I feel like I’ve known you forever,” He says, looking at her with deep brown eyes that Lily can’t refuse.  
“I need people who feel like forever’s right now,” His voice cracks, and Lily sighs, content to stay with him, and they fall asleep on the bathroom floor.

* * *

  
James knows that Remus told her the moment he sees them on the bathmat together. He sees the tear stains. A pang goes through his gut. But this is what he needs to do. This is going to help Remus be okay.  
He shakes them awake and the five start getting ready to leave again, because they have to be at the doctors at nine.  
Lily looks in the mirror, trying to decide how to make I-went-home-with-four-strangers-and-we-all-got-drunk-and-they’re-all-the-best-people-the-world look good, but she decides it doesn’t matter, because she needs to be there for Remus.  
He’s supposed to fast, so he’s just drinking water to sober up a little, and James is throwing clothes left right and centre. Leather jacket to Sirius, wool sweater for Remus, hoodie for Pete.  
He hands Lily one of his jumpers, because he sees the ripples of her skin against the cool morning air.  
She takes it with a smile, and inhales as she pulls it over her head, and all she can smell is the aroma of James Potter. The name sounds poetic in a way. It smells like the rubber of a football, expensive suits and tasteful colognes, a trace of cigarettes. It smells incredible.  
They’re in the car and on their way now, and Remus falls asleep on Sirius’ shoulder as he holds Lily’s hand. Lily and Sirius fall asleep not long after, mouths open, hands all touching.  
“James,” Pete says quietly, timidly, his voice jolting James out of worry. He sits in the front seat, because James said it couldn’t be Sirius’ turn again.  
“Yeah, Pete?” He mumbles, turning a corner and almost hitting a sign. It’s barely daylight and he needs a coffee.  
“He is going to be okay, right?” Pete’s voice shakes, everything is shattering. He can’t lose a friend after just gaining one. Life couldn’t be that cruel. He knew he was less than the others, and Pete wished it could be him and not Remus. Maybe then it would be easier to handle. For his friends.  
“I don’t know, mate.” James sighs, and it’s long and sad, because he doesn’t know. He wants to tell Pete that they’ll all be okay, but he knows there’s no point. The world is cruel.  
“I hope to anything that watches over us that he will be. And if he’s not, then there’s no fucking god. Because a god would stop Remus John Lupin from dying. A real god would know that Remus needs to be alive.”  
Pete looks at James with wide eyes. It’s barely 7 am and his knuckles are white and his face is tight. They all care too much.  
He pulls into the hospital and a speed bump jolts the three in the back awake, and Lily’s hair is caught in her mouth again and James can’t help but smile.  
She glances at Sirius, who says nothing but “You’re getting the coffee, ginge.” She doesn’t complain. She’s just looking at Remus in concern again, and takes his hand again. He looks tired of life.  
The waiting room feels tense and a little too quiet, and as lily places a coffee in each of their hands, except Remus, her fingers skim over James’s, and they’re warm and alive. She doesn’t move her hand, only interlocking her fingers with his before sitting down next to him.  
He still has messy jet black hair, and Lily feels a stab in her gut as she looks at him. She’s wanted to kiss him all night, and she’s thought of a million different ways.  
But she won’t.  
Remus is called and they walk in and Sirius can’t help but grip his friend’s hand as the nurse goes over the procedure. He can’t let his friend be in pain. He can’t.  
Remus is blinking back tears as he pulls away from his friends to go into the chemo room, and Lily sobs quietly into Sirius’s chest as he goes.  
They gather in the waiting room again, because there’s no way they’re leaving until Remus does.  
“What kind of music do you like?” Lily asks into the silence, letting the other three think about it for a moment, all grateful for a distraction.  
“Arctic Monkeys,” James and Sirius are in unison, and Lily smiles at them. Of course.  
“The 1975,” James says, looking at Lily. She smiles. “Gay for Matty Healy?” She asks Sirius, snapping her neck around, eyebrow quirked.  
Sirius scoffs. “He wishes.”  
“The Killers,” Lily shoots.  
“Panic! At the disco,” James fires.  
“Green Day,” Sirius slams.  
“The Wombats,” Peter pushes.  
The room is loud, it’s only the four, and they finally have something to dull the ache.  
“All Time Low,”  
“Lana Del Rey,”  
“Ed Sheeran,”  
“The Lumineers,”  
“TAYLOR SWIFT”  
The last voice is Peter’s, echoing through the room, before all four of them burst into giggles.  
“What? Shake it off is a classic!” Pete says between breaths of air.  
“Players gonna play play play play play…” James begins, hand over his heart.  
“Haters gonna hate hate hate hate hate baby…” Sirius joins in.  
Within a moment, the four are singing it together, faces screwed up and voices cracking, but it doesn’t matter, because they’re all together.  
The nurse walks back into the room and looks at them, face looking sad and tired. James’ heart thuds, laughter dying in his throat.  
“He’s finished. Just be careful, he’s weak,” She says, leading them to where Remus is.  
He’s okay. James knows that as soon as he walks in. Remus is tired, sick, but okay. Alive.

* * *

A week is passed and Lily and James are walking to his flat after she’s finished her shift. Her coffee with Marlene has meant spilled secrets, particularly the one where Lily wanted to grab James’s face and make out with him.  
She’d never tell him that, though.  
“So Remus is there, doing okay?” She asks, hands in the pocket of his jumper. James loves how it looks on her.  
“Yeah, he’s alright.”  
Lily stops at a shop window, her hair bright and her eyes alight.  
Her mouth drops at the sight of a red dress in the shop window. One week ago. She thinks. And she still wants it so damn bad.  
“’It’s so nice,” Lily mumbles, mouth agape.  
“Why don’t you buy it?” James asks, looking down at her, because he’s a foot taller.  
“I can’t.” She says, eyes hardening. “I have to pay for uni, and rent and groceries. I don’t have money like you do.”  
James want to kick himself. He feels so ignorant.  
“Besides,” Lily says, gaze lowering to the cobbled street, “I have nowhere to wear it to.”  
She looks so sad as she says it, so he files that dress away in head, imagining how she’d look in it, before grabbing her hand and pulling her down the street.  
“Come on,”  
Lily laughs, struggling to keep up.  
“James,” She says, speeding up again. “Slow down, I have little legs,”  
James only grins.

* * *

  
James turns the key in the lock cautiously, not sure of what state Remus will be in.  
He hears a sigh of relief from Lily as the door opens and Remus in on the couch talking to Peter, while Sirius yells at the football match. Arsenal vs. Chelsea.  
James and Lily make a beeline for the floor, where Peter has a family packet of crisps, digging in.  
“What’s the score?” Lily asks, hand unintentionally intertwining with James’ in excitement as she sees her team way ahead. “Take that, Black! Your team is full of tossers.”  
They begin a heated argument while the game goes on, and Remus and Pete pause their conversation to watch. James’ pulse rises as he realises that Lily doesn’t have any intention of letting go of his hand soon, and he likes that.  
He pauses to look at Remus, who only smiles at him, silently reassuring him that he’s okay. He looks tired but at peace. James breaths out.  
“Ha! Potter, your piss-shit team is going down!” Sirius yells as Chelsea scores.  
“In your dreams, Black,” Lily drawls as she takes a handful of chips. She thinks about getting a drink, but she doesn’t want to let go of James’ hand.  
“Shove off, Evans,” Sirius nudges her, and she pushes back. She laughs and wonders how people can be this good.  
“Do you guys want to dinner this week?” James asks as things quieten again.  
“We had dinner last week.” Remus says, looking confused.  
“I know; I just want to celebrate you getting better.”  
Quiet, hopeful laughter ensues and they all agree.  
“Let’s make it a special occasion though,” Peter says, winking at James.  
Sirius goes into wingman mode, because at this point, Evans and Potter are fucking holding hands, why aren’t they making out yet?  
“Yeah, suit and tie, fancy dress,” He says as he takes a swig of beer. “You got a nice dress, Evans?”  
Lily looks down, but she’s smiling. “Not yet.”

* * *

  
She’s laughing again, and his heart is in his throat because she gets him. He turns to her as she walks to the room she’s staying in his flat. He’s kicked Pete out and Remus and Pete are sharing a room in the 3-bedroom flat. She’s talking to him about Uni and her courses, work and Marlene, her family and her screaming matches with Petunia, but her eyebrows quirk when she sees a box on the bed. He can’t help but smirk.  
“James?” Lily’s eyes are wide and green and bright, and she’s looking at the cream box that is laced in a red ribbon, and she can’t contain the blush or the glee. She races over to the bed, and she feels a pang of regret as she undoes the fancy ribbon, but she looks into the box and tears form as she sees it.  
Lacy. Red. Cinches in at the waist. The dress, and she now has both a fancy dress and an occasion to where it to. She’s a flurry of red hair as she whips around and addresses James again.  
“Was this you?”  
He shrugs. “Call it a birthday gift. Or a present, for helping us so much.”  
She frowns, puzzled.  
“But I haven’t done anything. I’ve just invaded your house and stolen your alcohol, really,”  
He laughs at that, pure and whole, because that is both the truth, and it’s not. She’s more than that.  
“No, Evans,” He says, heart rate quickening, throat tightening and breath hitching as he gets closer to her. He looks at her, and she looks like heaven in a human. “You fit. You’re like the piece of the puzzle that we didn’t think we’d need until we met you. It works.”  
Lily’s blushing so hard it hurts her head, so she hides in her hair and looks down at the dress in the box again.  
“It’s in my size and everything, I–” She breaks off for a moment, unsure of how to express it.  
She looks up again, and he’s inches away from her, and she wants to kiss him so badly that an ache grows within her heart.  
He’s looking at her lips and he wants nothing more than to feel her skin on his, graze his lips on hers.  
But they won’t.  
“Thank you,” she breaths, and she backs away slightly, looking back at the dress.  
“I’ll wear it tonight.”

* * *

  
She walks downstairs in her dress and she looks like the human embodiment of an arctic monkey’s song. She’s a livewire and James’ jaw drops.  
It fits perfectly. Her makeup is immaculate and James’ tux is driving her insane.  
The five of them get into the car and the wind messes with her hair a little, pulling bits out of her up do here and there, but all it really does is frame her face, and James just wants to kiss her even more.  
They walk into the restaurant, and it’s fancier than Fibonacci’s, polished and prim, and James just tips his hat at the waiter and picks a table, because his parents are friends with the owners.  
Sirius is almost as used to it as James, because his only real parents are the Potters anyway.  
Remus feels alive and in awe that this is still his life. He’s doing okay.  
Pete’s still daydreaming about the food.  
(But really, he’s been praying to God every night for Remus to be okay, and he walks into this restaurant, relief telling him it’s alright.)  
The waiter winks at Lily unsubtly as she orders the drinks, having already memorized the boy’s orders. Sirius is impressed as he remarks “knew there was a reason we picked you, Evans.” Lily just sticks her tongue out at him.  
The food is incredible, the chandeliers are made of gold and crystals and are so pretty Lily wants to cry, and James can’t stop looking at Lily.  
(She can’t stop looking at him, either.)  
Finally, after a three course meal, the five are full and slightly tipsy, so James locks his car and they decide to walk home.  
Pete, Remus and Sirius wander ahead and talk about the city as it’s lit up, but Lily and James stay behind, because she’s short and she walks slower in heels.  
“Hurry up, you two!” Sirius yells, even though he’s deliberately leaving them behind so they’ll finally fucking snog.  
“Thank you, James.” She says it quietly and simply, as if there’s nothing else to say as she locks her fingers in his, and neither wants to let go, but still afraid to find out what will happen if they don’t let go.  
“What for?”  
“The dress. For the clothes and the friends and the dinners and for being so perfect. For having perfect friends. For letting me fit… For being my home.”  
James is looking at her, and he finally understands what she means.  
Home is where your heart is right? Well, James’ heart is hers. (and maybe Sirius’.)  
Her breath is on his neck and he’s is on her face and they’re gazing at each other as the lights of London begin to blur.  
“Under all this, Evans, you look gorgeous.” He whispers. He can’t ruin it.  
Her hand is still in his when she says, “You don’t scrub up too badly yourself.”  
“You’ve always looked like heaven, though.”  
“You’ve always looked like home.”  
And, for whatever reason, that sounds right. It fits.  
Their lips finally meet under the streetlights of London and the stars around them glisten. Teeth collide and breaths are shaky and fingers run thought messy hair, and he holds her like she’s glass.  
They’re wild for each other, they’re kissing under a city of stars, and Sirius looks behind him and the three boys cheer.  
_They’re home._


End file.
